


First Time Shopping

by nugget_basket



Series: Castiel's Book of Firsts [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:23:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nugget_basket/pseuds/nugget_basket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean decides to take Cas shopping for his own clothes. This chap is relatively fluffy, please leave kudos!! Thanks xD</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time Shopping

**Author's Note:**

> Woah it’s been a while since I last posted. I’ve been a little busy with some crap hahaha, so finally here’s the next installment. I think I’m gonna post another one next week, and I’m currently working on a Crobby fic so stay tuned for that one! Thanks guys, reads, reviews etc are very much appreciated. It makes me want to continue writing and it feels like someone’s actually reading haha, so thanks for all that. Please leave a kudos if you liked it!! <3

It did them good, to just pretend for a while that there wasn’t anything bigger out there. Heaven and Hell were holed up in their separate poles, recuperating and counting their losses and planning their next moves. It was certain that a good part of it would involve the Winchesters and their recently earth-bound angel. This worried Dean to no end. Sometimes he woke in the night to Castiel’s cries as he begged for forgiveness from Naomi, as he begged her not to take his grace. Other times, he watched his lover as he slept. He noticed that ever since he and Castiel began sharing a bed, the night terrors were getting more subdued and infrequent. Castiel would fall fast asleep almost immediately after they made love, curled up in a fetal position on his side of the large bed in Dean’s room. Dean would watch his angel sleep, gently tracing the tiny smile that curved the pink lips he loved to kiss, and smoothing his hair away from his slightly creased brow. 

Dean never once acknowledged that Castiel was human. He believed with all his heart that Castiel would get his grace back; that this was simply temporary, and so he ignored the aching concern that nagged deep in the part of his heart that he locked away from even Castiel. Cas behaved like an angel, spoke like one, had the knowledge of one. Once, Dean had commented on a show he’d been watching on the Romans, called Spartacus or something like that, and Castiel had told him that the sex and orgies that Dean so enjoyed on the show was historically inaccurate. The angel continued on to say that sexual activity had indeed been a very private affair, conducted in the confines of one’s own home. This was described in rather graphic detail to Sam and Bobby’s great discomfort. Dean, not wanting to miss an opportunity to embarrass Sam and Bobby, whacked the angel on the ass when he stood up, giving the widened blue eyes a saucy wink. 

The mix of horror and reluctant amusement on both Sam’s and Bobby’s faces had been priceless.

Dean had never, not in his entire life, had someone he would not only do anything for, but could just look at and fall in love with every single day. It terrified him. Sometimes, the stray thought that perhaps he and Cas could be happy together if Cas didn’t get his grace back made its way into his head. Moments like those felt like he was betraying Castiel, who first and foremost was his best friend, before anything else. Dean slowly had grown cynical about his love, over the years, believing that it left the people whom he had loved worse off than before. He despised himself for it, and had trouble giving his love to Cas, for fear that it would end up hurting the angel. Castiel could sense this, Dean knew. Often, when he distanced himself to go check up on his car, or skim through books without really digesting the words, he caught that fleeting look of hurt on the other man’s features.   
So far, Dean was keeping himself off the edge. It would be easier to let go, once Castiel got his grace back. Dean didn’t even really think that Castiel was capable of the romantic love that Dean expected of him. Castiel cared about him, that much was obvious, but love was very different. Castiel probably didn’t know how to be emotionally intimate with someone. And Dean of all people, was in no position to teach him. As if it was something to be taught in the first place! Dean scoffed inwardly at the thought. Instead, he watched his lover’s side rise and fall as he breathed and smiled at the lock of hair that curled softly over his forehead. His hair had grown out exponentially over the past few weeks. It was as if the vessel’s suppressed functions were bursting out of their cage, unruly and free, now that the grace was not controlling them. Dean decided he’d probably need a haircut soon, but he liked the way Castiel’s hair curled gently over his blue eyes, accentuating their cold, flaming colour. Castiel’s eyes were the only physical reminder of his angelic origins. They were old, holding millennia of growth and knowledge behind them, but burned with a curious light, which Dean couldn’t quite place. In its raw form, perhaps it could be called…life.

With that melodious word weaving its way through Dean’s mind, which was slowly losing its awareness, Dean let himself sink down on his side next to Castiel, pulling his angel close, and he closed his eyes, allowing his consciousness to float away on the endless, weightless ocean of sleep.  
Breakfast was a simple affair of beans and toast, courtesy of Bobby. Dean had never been so grateful to his family. Sam and Bobby had been scouring the library for books on the angel and demon tablets as well as information on angels. They spent their days reading until their eyes were reddened and sore. Which is why, after a week of sitting in the Men of Letters HQ library, and getting nowhere with their research, Bobby spoke up. 

“This ain’t getting’ us anywhere boys.” Bobby told them, his eyes apologetic under his cap. “We gotta wait till Heaven finds us. Naomi’s got Castiel’s grace and we’ve got the tablets. For now, there’s not much we can do except wait.”

Sam slammed another book closed, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sorry Cas, but there’s nothing we can do right now.”

“I’ve called in a few favours,” Bobby explained, “But they won’t be able to get back to me for a while yet.”

Castiel nodded, solemnly. He spoke in his usual gravelly voice. “Then there is no choice.”

Dean let out a ragged, annoyed breath. “We’re waiting Cas, just waiting. Don’t be so melodramatic.”

Castiel’s eyes flashed but he didn’t pursue it. They had an almost unspoken agreement that they would cross that bridge when they got to it. Or at least Dean thought they did. That or Cas just didn’t want to fight with him. As if he had resigned himself to his fate and wasn’t going to argue about it. Dean gazed at the former angel dressed in his clothes with a frustration that tore at him inside. Dean’s Metallica t-shirt hung off Cas, and new holes had to be poked in a belt just to hold his jeans up on Cas’ hips.

“We need to take you shopping man.” Dean said, almost as if it were a revelation.

Sam snickered. “Finally decided to come out of the closet, Dean?”

“Shut up Sam. He needs his own clothes,” Dean gestured to Cas, “I mean, look at him!”

“Goodwill?” Bobby asked, his beard itching with a smile of his own.

“I am not one of those exuberant homosexuals alright!! Stop laughing!” Dean scowled at his brother, grabbing Castiel by the hand. “C’mon Cas. Let’s get you some new clothes.”

Minutes later, they were at the nearest Goodwill. The place was deserted, seeing as it was late afternoon and Dean ushered Castiel into an empty changing room with an armful of soft t-shirts and jeans. By now, the former angel was accustomed to putting on and taking off clothes, so Dean figured they’d be done pretty quickly. As he looked for a new coat that would fit Castiel, Dean heard his name being called. Castiel stood outside the changing room, in a pair of fitting jeans and a soft white, cotton tee that very nicely showed off his slender figure. Castiel looked pretty damn good, and Dean smiled.

“That looks awesome Cas.” He told the pleased angel quietly, before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Choose the clothes you want, and I’ll go pick a coat out for you.”

He returned to the rack that housed a wide assortment of coats and picked through it randomly until his eyes fell on a coat of a dark, heavy material. Picking it up, he realized it was a trench coat. It wasn’t the tan material of Castiel’s old trench coat, but it was of a similar cut and style. It was a dark shade of grey instead, but it still brought a rush of memories to Dean. The backs of his eyes pricked with hot tears, which he fought to hold back. Hearing the changing room door creak open, Dean forced a smile to his face, and turned around, the trench coat held tightly to his chest.

Finding Castiel carrying a bunch of clothes, Dean stared into the fathomless blue of his eyes, and found some comfort there. Taking the clothes and transferring them to a nearby stool, Dean held out the trench coat to his angel, “I found something I thought you might like.”  
Castiel’s brows bunched together, his eyes flitting over Dean’s face, from the red in his cheeks to the wetness that refused to leave his eyes. Sniffing, but maintaining his strong jaw, Dean unfolded the trench coat once more, holding it in front of him for Cas to see. Castiel’s face drove Dean over the edge, right then and there.  
His pale face brightened suddenly, and he stretched out tentative fingers to stroke the familiar material. Slowly, he took the trench coat and pulled it on, over his t-shirt, his eyes wide and wet. Tears spilled from Castiel’s cheeks, and he reached out with those slender fingers of his to brush away Dean’s own tears. 

“I love you Cas.” The words tumbled from Dean’s lips before he could stop, and he felt an incredible lightness when they did.

Castiel smiled beatifically. “I have always loved you, Dean.”

Dean felt Castiel’s ethereal love when he kissed him. How had he not felt it there before? As his eyes flicked shut, an old quote he had read surfaced in his mind. “Why do we close our eyes when we pray, cry, kiss, dream? Because the most beautiful things in life are not seen but felt only by heart.”

He knew only now, how very true that was.


End file.
